


By Chance

by waywardlesbian



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Breakup, Getting Back Together, M/M, Mutual Pining, Post-Book 2: Wayward Son, Smut, Some Fluff, just a little bit tho, some deniall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:01:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25074292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waywardlesbian/pseuds/waywardlesbian
Summary: Post Wayward Son, Simon breaks up with Baz because he doesn't want to hold him back. Two years later, Simon sees Baz at a bar and wants to apologize.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 12
Kudos: 103





	By Chance

**Author's Note:**

> Was originally lowkey based on Lookalike by Conan Gray, but I kind of spiraled out of control until I’d written over 10 000 words and it morphed into this almost completely different thing… also highkey based on that one line in Carry On where Baz said he would find a thousand men who look exactly like Simon bloody Snow and break each of their hearts a different way! It’s a lot.  
> Also, I'm super new to writing fics, so if anyone has feedback or pointers I would love to hear them!

**SIMON**

Somehow, we’d survived everything and made it back to London, all of us alive and in one piece. Shepard’s on the couch, Agatha actually answers nearly every time we call her, and Baz haunts our doorstep. A lot of the time, I kind of wish I hadn’t survived because following through on the decisions I made on the beach in San Diego has been a lot harder than I thought it would be. I cobbled together a resume with the help of Penny, and I did talk to Dr. Wellbelove about getting my wings removed. I’ve been too scared to book an actual date for the surgery yet, but I’m determined to do it sooner rather than later. I still have one last thing to do before I can become fully Normal like I was meant to be, but I’m being incredibly selfish and holding on to my last bit of magic for longer than I should. 

Seeing how drawn Baz looks tonight is making it just the tiniest bit easier. We’ve been settled back in London for nearly a month now, and he should have had time to recover from everything, yet somehow he looks worse. I know that it’s because of me. No matter what he said in San Diego, he would be better off without me, even if he can’t see it just yet. I love him too much to hold him back, and he feels sorry for me so he won’t break up with me himself, even if it's what's best for him.

There’s excuses for why I haven’t broken up with him yet. Penny or Shepard have always been around the flat, and I haven’t really felt up to going outside much so I couldn’t have done it elsewhere. Today though, I woke up feeling like I could manage a night out, and I know that it will only get worse the longer I drag this out. I also feel selfish enough to give myself one real date with Baz, one really special memory to hold on to, before I let him go find happiness. 

He freezes when I suggest going out for dinner instead of getting take away, but then nods and grabs his coat. 

“Where to, Snow?” he asks as he shuts the door behind us. I should have planned this out better, that’s what people do on real dates. 

“Let’s wander down to the shops, yea?” I suggest, hoping he’ll like looking through the bookstore, and that he’ll be okay with getting chips from one of the stands or something. He smiles, and sets off. I decide that if I’m giving myself one last night to enjoy this with him, I can hold his hand. I jog a bit to catch up, and then trip over myself, grabbing his arm and shoulder to steady myself. 

“Whoa there, shouldn’t the tail be balancing you out?” he smirks at me, and my heart aches. I’m going to miss that so much, especially since his teasing has become so rare in the last year or so. 

I smile at him, whispering a good natured “fuck you” before I reach for his hand, interlacing my fingers with his. He looks surprised for a second, but just squeezes my hand as he turns back to continue down the sidewalk. 

I soak in the warm summer breeze and the feel of his hand in mine. As we reach the shops, I yank him into the book store, and at my insistence he spends an hour looking through old editions they have, talking about the collection at his parent’s and teasing me about the gaps in my knowledge about Shakespeare and Dickens. 

“You’re a mage, Snow, so many spells are based on these authors! You must have read at least some of Hamlet at one point!” 

He freezes for a second then, clearly worried he touched on something sensitive, but I joke, “I just remember the skull, and that’s only because I thought of it every time I followed you into the fucking catacombs,” and he laughs. His laugh is immediately added to the list of things I’m going to miss about Baz, but I push the list to the back of mind to take out later. I need to be present for every second of our last night together.

We eventually wander out and find some food, him ordering the same thing as me, and then feeding me nearly everything off of his plate as well, teasing me the whole time. I don’t dwell on the way his thoughtfulness makes my chest hurt, even when he tries to bury it in insults. If I think too much, I’ll convince myself that he is happy, and then I’ll never have the nerve to do what needs to be done. It’s starting to get dark and the street lamps come on as we make our way back to my flat. I’m trying to work up the nerve to just start the break up conversation, but first, there’s one last thing that I get to do as a part of our date. 

“Baz?” I say, tugging on his hand to get him to stop.

He turns to me, and the sight of him perfectly centered under the streetlight is enough to make me breathless. I reach up with my free hand, and cup his cheek, before standing on my toes and gently pressing my mouth to his. We haven’t kissed since America, and I try to savour every sensation as I gently work his lips apart. He tastes like chips and his lips are so cold and soft, and his hand is in my hair and mine has moved from his cheek to run through the strands of hair falling into his face. I can feel myself tearing up as I pull away, as I step back and his hand falls away from my hair, as I clutch at his other hand for every last second that I can. He looks like he’s smiling until he notices the tears starting to slip down my face. 

“Simon?” he looks worried, and his concern makes me begin to cry for real. I had already tried using my line about believing people when they showed you who they really are, so I steel myself and go right to what I need to do. 

“I think we should break up, Baz. This isn’t working anymore.” 

He freezes with his mouth hanging open. “What the fuck did you just say?”

Resolve burns through me, now that I’ve gotten it out there. I can still muster up some courage, if it's for Baz. “I don’t think we’re right for each other. This needs to end.” 

He recoils, as if he’s been burned. I hang my head, unable to handle looking him in the eyes. 

“Why?” he chokes out, but I don’t want to have a conversation about this. I want to skip to the part where he’s happy. Where I can at least take some comfort in the fact that I let him go so he could move on and find someone that deserves him. 

“Please, Baz. Just leave it.” I know it’s not fair, to not give him a reason, but it's easier this way. Knowing the reason won’t change the outcome, and this is best for him. 

“Fine,” he says after a moment, seeing that I’m serious, his voice colder than it's been in years. “I’m gone, then.” and he walks away without looking back. I crouch on the sidewalk, trying not to choke on my sobs as they tear through my chest and throat. I’m ripping my hands through my hair and feeling like my world has ended, even though this is all so Baz can have the world he deserves.

  
  


**2 YEARS LATER**

**BAZ**

It's been a month since I finished my economics degree at LSE, and I have the whole summer to relax before I begin my masters. I’ve spent nearly every night so far at clubs, stalking the dance floors for men with bronze curls, blue eyes, freckles, pretty much anything that helps me pretend they’re someone else. Some nights I’m unlucky and can’t find a decent man with any resemblance, and others I find one who have enough similarities that it hurts. I dance with them, take them to the alley, or take them home, and always send them away the moment I’m done with them. 

I said I’d find a thousand men who looked like Snow and break their hearts, but that was when I thought I’d be trapped in a loveless marriage with Agatha Wellbelove. Now I know that I can’t get anyone like Snow to care about me enough that I could break their heart, so I settle for something unattached and unfeeling that I have control over, at least most of the time. 

I am probably afraid of commitment now, that’s certainly one thing that came from the horrible way Snow broke up with me, without any warning or explanation. The closest I came to some kind of closure was when I drove by his flat a week after he dumped me and Bunce met me on the curb with a box of things I’d had there. 

“This is about how he feels about himself, not how he feels about you. He still cares about you, Baz,” she said, as if that changed anything. As if that changed that Snow was capable of giving me up, when I knew from years of trying that I could never give him up. “I’m trying to make him see sense, just give him time.” 

I ignored that. “I’d still like to be friends with you, Bunce. Text me some time, yea?” I floored it before she could say anything else, and I’ve avoided that neighbourhood like the plague ever since. We have texted a bit in the last two years, and she rang me up a few weeks ago to congratulate me on my graduation. Our conversations have been pretty casual, with me never asking about Snow and her never offering anything. I think Shepard still lives with her, but I don’t know if Snow does, or if she even still lives in the same building, and I don’t want to know. I decided after a month of crying that I had to stop pining, and while I don’t think I’ll ever be over him, I can’t let my life revolve around him anymore. 

The only thing I allow myself is the lookalikes, although they’re never quite right. I found the best one about a year ago, and even kept him around for a few months in an attempt to form a real relationship. I tried to call it love. I tried telling myself that it was real and that I had gotten it right, but after eight months, I had to let him go because it wasn’t fair to pretend it was something it wasn’t. 

I’d taken a break after that, focusing on finishing my degree and making it through grad school applications, but when I’d finally graduated, I allowed myself to indulge in another go at finding momentary replacements. It’s been a reasonably successful effort, although after hanging around the bar for an hour or two, it seems like it might be a wash for tonight. I’m in a new club, one that had been recommended by a friend at uni, and while there is no shortage of men asking me to dance, none possess a single feature comparable to Simon Snow. I pay my tab and get up to leave. As I head for the door, I notice a flicker of bronze move around the edge of the dance floor, and get a jolt of hope. Even though I don’t know what I’d do if it really was him, I still hope that whichever curly, bronze haired man that catches my eye is actually Snow. I still feel disappointed every time it isn’t. I don’t bother searching the man I’d just seen out, since I’ve already decided to call it a night and I don’t feel like getting that hit of disappointment. I order a cab and head back to my apartment, ready to get pissed on a bottle or two of wine, drink a bag of blood, and finish my novel. 

**SIMON**

It’s been two years and I still think about Baz every day. A lot has changed for me, but that hasn’t. I went home after I broke up with him, and cried to Penny for hours. She held me the whole time, and continued to hold me for basically an entire week. She packed up all of Baz’s stuff, and gave it to him at the end of that week. I watched him pull up from the window, and I wished that he would get out and come up and let me apologize, let me hold his hand and beg for him to take me back. I had hoped for it so badly, but he didn’t so much as glance up at the window before speeding away. I haven’t seen him since. 

Penny came back upstairs, and when I tried to pull her into a hug to cry some more, she sat me down on the couch and chewed me out. It was in the most loving way possible, of course, but she still let me have it. She told me that she understood that I had been having a really tough time, that I had been through a lot, but that I needed to own my past and move forward. I tried to tell her that that’s what I had been doing by applying for normal jobs and making an appointment to get my wings removed. She told me that was complete shit, and that none of that would help me deal with my trauma. 

Then she gave me the information for a new magickal therapist to talk to, and said that she would not take me to get my wings removed until I’d talked to her. I spent another week crying and moping before I finally set up a Skype appointment with the therapist. 

It took a lot of sessions, but my therapist has helped me recognize that I struggle with depression and anxiety, as well as some issues surrounding trauma. With her help, I’ve got those sorted out to the point where they’re mostly manageable, with only a really bad day now and again instead of all the time. We talked about my trauma and how I’m trying to run from it by taking off the wings and leaving the magickal world behind, and I eventually decided to keep them. It was definitely the right decision in the end, especially now that Penny has created a spell that holds until she does the counter spell. 

We also talked about my problems with poor self esteem and low self-worth, which was a bit eye opening. It clearly had an enormous influence on my relationship with Baz, and was damaging him as much as it was damaging me, something that made me really upset. As much as I was able to sort out with my therapist though, we never could talk through my feelings for Baz and I still feel so guilty about all the ways I hurt him. No matter how much better I felt about myself and no matter how much more okay I became, I never stopped being in love with him, and eventually I realized that it was ridiculous of me to break up with Baz. My therapist suggested that breaking up with him was some kind of defense mechanism because I was too scared to be vulnerable and that because of my terrible self esteem, I didn’t view myself as being worthy of Baz or any kind of love in general, really. 

While I do have some more confidence now, and I feel like I’ve become much better at communicating and being honest with myself about my feelings, I still struggle with thinking that breaking up with Baz was what was best for him, even if it wasn’t necessarily the best for me. Regardless of how much I love him, I think he’s better off with whichever fancy, educated toff he’s found in the last two years, although I would still like to apologize to him for everything, some day. 

Another thing I sorted with my therapist is what I should do with my life, at least for now. I got a job at a bakery a few blocks away, and am taking a few part time courses at a college in culinary arts or whatever. It's pretty relaxed, and I’ve always been passionate about food, so it made sense. I still live with Penny and Shepard, and we just finished moving into a new place with a little more space for the three of us. 

To celebrate our new flat, Penny has insisted that the three of us go out for the night. She talked me and Shepard into trying a club that’s in our new neighbourhood, and after a decent amount of whinging on my part, we head over. As I follow them to the booths around the edge of the dancefloor, I scan the crowds. It’s the same thing I always do whenever I’m somewhere in public. 

Despite truly believing that Baz is better off without me, I do still feel really guilty about how I broke things off with him. I’ve told myself that if I ever ran into Baz by chance, I’d at least apologize to him, and I figure that Baz being within a few meters of me is close enough to a coincidence that I always look for him, just in case. I sweep the bar quickly, and as I look back towards the door, I see a flash of long black hair. That’s enough for me to stop so I can get a better look at them as they leave, but someone bumps into me and I lose sight of them. 

“Watch it, mate.” the guy says, and as I stammer out an apology, I look at him again and am taken aback for a moment. He’s startlingly pale, and has longer, dark hair, although his mouth is shaped wrong and his nose is too small and starts too far down on his head. I realize I’m making comparisons after it's already happened, and my chest aches as I turn to follow Penny and Shep. The endless comparisons are one of the many reasons that I feel like I couldn’t be with anyone but Baz, and it's those feelings that make me extra determined to forget everything and just have fun dancing and drinking for tonight. It turned out to be quite fun, and led to the creation of a weekly tradition that involved going to that club, getting pissed, and dancing until we could barely walk home. 

It’s our third time there when I see him. At least I’m almost positive it's him, although it's hard to tell for sure because some bloke is wrapped around him so tightly that I can’t quite tell if his face is right. 

“Penny! Penny!” I yell, grabbing her arm and pulling her back towards me. 

She turns to me, then looks at where I’m staring. “Morgana, is that...?” The man pulls back and I can clearly see that it was Baz who he was wrapped around, and it is Baz who is now snogging the life out of him. “Oh,” Penny says, before tugging on my hand, “Simon, come on, let's find a booth, okay?” 

I think I’m in shock because I allow myself to be led away from Baz, the man I haven't seen in two years that I’m desperately in love with, even though I promised myself that if I ever saw him again I would say my piece about being sorry. “Penny, wait, I’ve got to-”

“Not right now,” She says sternly, completely aware of my intentions. She’s offered me the new number for his mobile thousands of times so I could just get my apology over with. In fact, she insisted that he’d want to hear from me, especially if I was healthy and dealing with my trauma and self esteem issues responsibly. I’ve always refused though, determined that he wouldn’t want to be bothered by me unless it was by chance, unless something completely coincidental happened like running into him in a random club in a city full of millions of people. Although him being swallowed whole by another bloke was never a part of the plan. Maybe that’s why I feel like the floor has dropped out from underneath me. Or maybe it’s just because I’ve seen Baz for the first time in two years. I’m definitely not jealous or upset that he seems to have found happiness with someone else. That’s what I wanted for him anyways, right?

Right. 

**BAZ**

I’ve just sent Ben (or Beck? Irrelevant.) out when I get a text from Bunce. Normally we go months without speaking so I’m surprised to hear from her so soon after the phone call about graduating, especially at 3 a.m. I swipe the notification and roll over, not at all in the mood to have a chat with her. My phone vibrates again. And again. After the fourth text I curse Bunce’s persistence before grappling for my phone. I tap in the pass code and go to messages.

3:06 a.m.  _ Just saw you at the club but didn’t want to /interrupt/. _

3:08 a.m.  _ You didn’t tell me you have a boyfriend! _

3:12 a.m.  _ Who is he? _

3:15 a.m.  _ Shep agreed that he looked kind of familiar 👀 _

“He looked kind of familiar”? Is Bunce fucking serious? Crowley, of course she would be at the same club I was, why wouldn’t she be. 

I furiously type back.

3:16 a.m.  **I don’t. And not a fucking word, Bunce.**

Fuck, Shepard was there too? Is Snow still trailing after them like a wounded puppy? If Snow saw me sucking on Brad’s tongue, I may have to kill him and then myself. It’s bad enough if  _ Bunce  _ saw it. 

I am not sober enough to handle this, and I’d already been dealing with the waves of self-loathing that come with hooking up with a Brett or a Dan or whoever it is that looks enough like Snow for me to notice them. I put my phone on silent and roll over again, determined to just fall asleep and think about this in the morning. Thanks to the copious amounts of alcohol I consumed, I’m able to do just that. 

I wake up to the sound of my bedroom door being pounded on, something that is incredibly confusing because the only person with a key to my apartment is-

“Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch, get your arse out of bed right fucking now.” 

Dev. Perfect. 

As I flop over to reach for my phone, memories of the club and the man (Brian?) and the late night texts from Penelope Bunce are coming back to me.That explains why my phone is on silent and why I missed what looks to be about fifteen calls from Dev and another five from Niall. 

He’s yelling just about every curse I could think of and threatening to break my door down. “Crowley, I’m coming!” I call out as I grab an old football sweater and some joggers. I toss my hair into a bun and hope to Merlin that I look at least somewhat presentable. 

I open the door and am immediately swallowed up in a bear hug.

“What the fuck, Dev.” I spit, pushing him away from me. 

He grins as he flashes me his left hand, which appears to be sporting a ring.

“Niall proposed last night!” 

Niall steps into the doorway beside Dev, rolling his eyes as he wraps his arm around Dev’s waist. “You wouldn’t answer your phone and Dev refused to tell anyone else before we told you. I wanted to be able to tell my mum, so here we are.”

Both Dev and Niall had approached me about proposing sometime soon, and judging by the ring on Niall’s finger, I can only guess that both of them went for it. 

“Who proposed first?” I ask, and both of them blush quite a bit. 

“Um, well, I sort of did first while, well when we were-” 

“Dev proposed in the middle of us having sex and after we finished up with that I got on my knee and did it properly.” 

“You were certainly on your knees.” Dev says, waggling his eyebrows. 

“For fuck’s sake, I can’t believe I’m marrying you!” Niall exclaims, elbowing him in the ribs. 

I try to hide my smile, although I’m certainly pleased for these two, as ridiculous as they are. 

“I’m glad you told me first, you need to get your story sorted out before you start telling your parents.” They’re laughing as I push past them to head into my living room. I put on coffee as they tell me more about their proposals and we chat about wedding plans and the magickal rituals they want to include. 

“I can’t believe you’re going to be a Grimm!” Dev tells Niall, and he grimaces at that. 

“Neither can I. You certainly lack the refinement that all Grimms are meant to possess, although your fiance can’t claim that trait either.” Dev glares at me but Niall just smiles before grabbing Dev’s hand, and Dev immediately softens. They’re so sweet that it's sickening, and I have to escape back into the kitchen just to breathe. 

I take a few minutes and gather up some snacks to bring back, placing the plate on the table in front of them before settling into my chair

Apparently they’ve decided that they’ve gushed about each other enough for one day as the moment I sit down, Dev turns to me. 

“So Baz, met any blokes yet? I’m surprised you didn’t have someone over this morning.” He goes for an innocent look, like he’s trying really hard to be casual. 

“As if they ever stay over. It’d be strange to keep an object around after you’re done using it.” Niall says, raising an eyebrow at me. 

“Excuse me, I don’t remember asking for your opinion on my penchance for casual sex, Niall. Not all of us can marry our school roommates that we’ve known since we were eleven,” I spit back. We’ve had this conversation before, them always encouraging me to find someone to settle down with, and me always brushing them off and turning the conversation back to them. However, Niall isn’t usually quite so openly judgemental, and I resent his implication that I’m just using these men, even if it is true. I also shouldn’t have said anything about school roommates. Dev seems to have lost any sense he possessed as he has the fucking audacity to say, “You could get hitched to yours too, mate, if you’d pull your stubborn head out of your arse.”

“Christ, Dev!” Niall yells, exasperated. 

“What? We talked about this!”

They bicker back and forth about me like I’m not there, while I sit there and wish that I wasn’t. They’ve never made anything but the lightest suggestions about me talking to Snow again, even just to get some closure. I always say that I’m perfectly alright with how things ended and that I’m completely over him, but I’ve never quite been able to convince the two of them. They were the only ones that saw me in the immediate aftermath of the break up, and while I would never admit it outloud, I was pretty pitiful. 

Now though, I can't even fathom the idea of seeing him, let alone talking to him again. I genuinely don’t know what would be worse, if he was still incredibly depressed and unhappy, or if he was completely happy and moved on. Actually, as selfish as it is, I think it would be worse if he was happy and settled down with someone else, because then I would feel like I was the reason he was unhappy before. Either way, I’ve convinced myself that it's better not to know. 

Something that I make clear to Dev and Niall.

“That’s shit Baz, and you know it.” Dev clearly isn’t buying it. 

“It’s in the past, Dev! There’s no point dredging up any of that shit again, it won’t change anything!” 

“It might,” Niall says, “Maybe he’s grown up and realized what he’s missed out on by dumping you!” 

“Or maybe he’s decided that it was all a fluke and that he was never into men and that he never wants to hear from me ever again! Maybe he broke up with me because he had found someone else and is now in a perfect relationship! I don’t fucking know! But knowing won’t change a thing!”

“Maybe, but maybe not.” Dev is clearly a bit annoyed with me now. “But I -we- don’t think that you’ll really be able to move on unless you get a bit of closure. Or something! Because no matter what you say, it’s bloody well clear that you are not over him, and sleeping with a bunch of men you find in bars isn’t going to change that!” 

“Fuck you,” I spit, “As if you know a single fucking thing about what this has felt like. What would you do if Niall tossed you out on the street tomorrow without a word? Even that isn’t comparable, but just imagine! You wouldn’t go crawling back to him after that, you wouldn’t get in touch with him years later!”

“I would, because I care about Niall more than I care about my own pride!” Dev is yelling now, and Niall places a hand on his shoulder, clearly trying to placate him. However, he seems as though he isn’t going to be stopped. “I don’t know why that moron put up with for as long as he did, but he wouldn’t have if he didn’t fucking care about you, Baz! He sacrificed his magic for a bunch of ungrateful twats like us, you think he would hurt you if he didn’t have some noble reason? I’ve never been a fan of his but it is undeniable that he did anything he could to prevent the people he cared about from getting hurt, and it was clear to anyone that he cared about you, even at fucking Watford. If you would just get over yourself, if you would just talk to him I’m sure-”

“That’s enough, Dev.” Niall interrupts. 

“I agree, Niall, that’s quite enough about me for one day, I think.” I can’t handle this right now, not after last night and the texts from Bunce and the endless thoughts of Snow swirling around in my head. I let my usual sneer settle back into place and revert to the polite, chilled tone that was passed down to me by my father. “Lovely of you to visit though. Congrats again on your engagement, and please give my regards to your parents when you tell them.”

“You’re a bastard and a coward, Baz. You can pull that cold shit on other people, but not on me.” Dev snarls, “I’m fucking here for you alright? When you’re ready to actually fucking talk about your goddamn feelings, Niall and I will be right here, even though you’re a massive fucking arsehole.” 

“I doubt your services will be needed.” I’m trying to maintain my veneer, but instead of getting angry like I normally would at Dev being a loud mouthed shit, I just feel desperately sad, and overwhelmed by his support, as rudely as it was offered. That’s likely why I whisper, “but thank you.”

He sighs at that, before striding over and grabbing me out of my chair and yanking me into a hug.

“Crowley Dev, the drama.” I whisper into his shoulder, although my voice cracks a bit as I hold back a sniffle so the effect might be lost. 

“Alright, mate, we better be off for real now. Lots of family to see!” he says, patting me on the back as he lets go.

“Thanks for the coffee and the yelling, it's always lovely to visit,” Niall adds, while pulling me in for a hug. 

“Right, as if you’d expect any less when you come around here.” I say, trying to hide my smile. “Congrats again, and let me know how it goes with your family. I’m sure everyone will be thrilled you’ve decided to stop living in sin.”

They both roll their eyes as they pull on their shoes and jackets, and are on their way out the door with promises of another visit sometime soon. 

“And don’t forget,” Dev says, halfway through the door, “My offer to chat about your feelings always stands, alright?” 

He shuts the door behind him quickly, likely to avoid the possibility of me cursing him with a  **Cat Got Your Tongue** . 

An exciting but draining morning all around, and I’m so grateful I don’t have to do anything today other than pick up some blood and do my weekly call with Mordelia. 

I reach for my phone to get my call with Mordelia done and notice a text from Bunce underneath the lines of missed calls. 

4:54 a.m.  _ I’ll give you multiple words then, Basil. I’m not one to judge but I think it would be healthy for you (and Simon) to meet up and get some closure. Maybe you’ve got a type but I think it’s more likely that you’ve still got some baggage from everything with Simon. I love you both to bits and I want to see you happy. So talk, sort your shit out with him, and be happy! Together or not, you’ll both feel better. Sorry for overstepping, you are allowed to be pissed at me about it but I’m only taking partial blame because Shepard made me take several tequila shots and I’m no longer in control of myself (Hi Baz, this has been Shep typing because Penny couldn’t type after the third shot but still wanted to send the message. You and Simon are cute and I think he would surprise you! Penny asked me not to say that but I think it needs to be put out there. _

I sit with that for a moment, torn between being pissed at Bunce for saying any of that, pissed at Shepard for typing it and adding in his own bullshit, or pissed at myself for not blocking Bunce ages ago. I decide against replying to her, unwilling to formulate any kind of response as I wouldn’t even know where to begin. 

I make it through my call with Mordelia (who has finally learned to stop asking about boyfriends), and run my errands before deciding to call it a night. I don’t have the energy for going out tonight, and while I’ve gotten very good at ignoring Dev and Niall’s judgement, I do feel a tinge guilty now that I’ve been directly called out on using people, even though it's consensual and generally pretty mutually beneficial. 

I go to bed early, though sleep proves to be elusive, as my rest is endlessly plagued by dreams of freckles and bronze curls. 

**SIMON**

It’s been four days since I saw Baz, and I’m still holding out on taking his number from Penny. I’ve never been so tempted to cave in but I refuse to break my rule. While I did technically see him, my intention was to talk to him in person when I saw him and that’s what I’d like to do. If it wasn’t for Penny, I would have followed through on that at the club, but she made it very clear that it was not an appropriate time. She’s been trying to convince me that texting him to ask to meet up would actually be better in the end because I wouldn’t be forcing Baz into a conversation or situation that he didn’t want to be a part of.

Shep agreed and after another two days of back and forth, of stewing over it while working and attending my courses, I decide that they’re right. 

The second I get home after my shift on Thursday, Penny snatches my phone and smiles at me as she taps Baz’s number into my contacts. 

“This is for the best, Si! Either way, you’ll get to apologize, and you won’t put Baz in an awkward position. Win, win, right?” 

“Ya, alright.” I mutter, holding my phone with Baz’s name showing above the new message section. I decide to start with the obvious.

5:03 p.m.  _ hiya this is simon _

Shit, what if he’s given his number to other Simons?

5:04 p.m.  _ um snow _

5:04 p.m.  _ obvsly  _

5:05 p.m.  _ um or its not _

5:05 p.m.  _ obvs that is _

5:06 p.m.  _ srry _

5:08 p.m.  _ anyways _

5:08 p.m.  _ Pen gave me the # for yr mobile _

5:09 p.m.  _ i was hoping I cld talk to u smtime _

5:09 p.m.  _ maybe tmmrw at the club, we go evry friday i cld buy u a drink _

I decide to leave it at that, I’ve said more than enough. 

Then I debate saying something else, typing it, then deleting it, then typing it again. After five minutes, I decide to go for it.

5:14 p.m.  _ congrats on the boyf too btw  _

I immediately regret it.

“Penny!” I call out for her, and she steps back into the living room from the kitchen. I show her my phone.

“Nicks and slicks, Simon! Why would you say that?”

“I didn’t want to seem like I was ignoring that he had a boyfriend! But now I feel weird about it because I shouldn’t know he has a boyfriend!” 

“He doesn’t have a boyfriend!” Penny yells.

“Fuck, why didn’t you tell me that!” 

“It wasn’t your business!”

“No secrets, Penny!” 

“That doesn’t apply to other people’s secrets!”

“Why is that even a secret? It’s not like he wouldn’t know that I’m not dating anyone.” I shout back. 

“He doesn’t know anything about you! For all he knows you could have moved to Canada or become a fisherman in Wales!” 

I’m a little struck at that. “He never asks about me?” 

Penny sighs. “He doesn’t. He never asks and I never mention anything because it's not my place! I refuse to go back and forth between the two of you because you won’t talk your issues out.” 

Christ. Now it's been ten minutes and I just congratulated him on a boyfriend he doesn’t have and he still hasn’t opened the texts. 

I hurl my phone across the room and dig the heels of my hands into my eyes. 

“It’ll be alright, Simon. Honestly, I’m sure he won’t think anything of it.”

“Bloody likely, Penny. That’s just like Baz, not thinking.” Now I’ve stopped being mad, and instead I’m worrying that I messed this up and it’ll keep him from talking to me and I won’t get my chance to apologize. It takes another moment for the fact that he doesn’t have a boyfriend to break through the panic, and I feel a twinge of hope sparking in my chest. Maybe I’ll be able to do more than apologize, maybe I’ll finally be able to say the words that have been churning around in my head for years, that I was too scared to say while we were dating. 

That hope is crushed when I remember that even though he doesn’t have a boyfriend, someone still had their tongue down his throat. 

“Who was that bloke at the club, then?” I ask, “You talked to Baz this weekend, right? Are they together?”

“Not my place, Si.” She looks on edge now, like she’s hiding something. 

“You know, though! What is it?” 

“I’m not going to explain casual sex to you, Simon!” Oh, well that’s alright. And kind of obvious. She’s still being weird though, and I call her out on it. 

Penny sighs again. She does that a lot when I try to talk to her about Baz. “Just leave it, Simon. Wait for him to respond, and if he agrees to meet, you can ask him about it.”

I’m still unsatisfied, but I figure I’ve bothered Penny enough for one night. 

“Sorry Pen. Thanks for all your help.” 

“Of course, Simon. And please, just remember to stay confident, alright? He still lashes out when he’s upset, and I don’t want you to get hurt because of it.” 

“Yea, thanks Penny.” She’s right to worry about that I guess, issues with self-worth are still something that I struggle with, although I’m working on it with my therapist. I had learned that Baz was normally just lashing out at me to protect himself, but now, after I broke up with him so terribly, if he does say shitty stuff, he probably means it, but I also probably deserve it. 

Penny pulls me in for a hug, then nods, and heads into her bedroom where Shepard had disappeared to an hour ago, clearly not wanting to stick around for this mess. 

I grab my phone out of the corner where I’d tossed it. No new messages. I swipe in the code and see that he hasn’t opened them yet either. That’s alright, he’s probably busy with something else. Like that guy from the club, who I have already added to my list of things I’m not going to think about. 

I decide to watch some telly and make myself supper. After an hour of trying to distract myself (even food didn’t work), I check my phone again. Still no new messages. I tap my way into my conversation with him and see it. All of my messages, read, at 6:32 p.m. It’s been over half an hour since he read them and he still hasn’t responded. 

I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and go through my list of tips for managing anxious thoughts. 

The next night, I’m still going through my list as Shep and Penny try to talk me into coming out to the club. 

“It’s tradition!”

“It’s only been three weeks, Penny.” I sigh, not in the mood for dancing and drinking. “And what if Baz is there? It would be too awkward.” 

“I can guarantee he won’t be there, not when he knows we’ll be.” Penny reasons, and I guess that makes sense. I feel bad disappointing Penny so I eventually agree to tag along. 

We make it into the club, and as Penny predicted, there is no sign of Baz. 

And there’s no sign of him the next week, or the week after that either. 

After three weeks without seeing Baz, and without a response to my texts, I’m going between being pissed at him for not texting me back, and pissed at myself for ever thinking that texting him was a good idea. The reminder from Penny to stay confident and not let him affect me too much is ringing through my head. 

At week four, I decide that sending him another text or two won’t hurt. 

12:04 a.m.  _ hllo its simon again _

_ 1 _ 2:05 a.m.  _ i didnt know that guy wsnt ur boyf srry for assuming _

12:05 a.m.  _ i just wnted to apologize to u but i wnted to do it in person _

12:05 a.m.  _ so if u ever feel like listning jst let me kno and ill meet u whrever _

All that’s left to do is wait. 

**BAZ**

I feel the vibration through the pocket of my jeans, and wrestle my phone out. The notification is quickly joined by another, then two more. All from a nameless phone number, a number which I had memorized within the first day of getting texts from it. 

The guy I was chatting with comes back with drinks, and puts his arm around me after sliding my drink onto the table.

“Whatcha looking at, then?” he asks, and his chavvy accent reminds me of why I picked him for the night. 

“Oh just some desperate text from an ex.” I say, trying to keep my tone under control, trying to stay in the cool, detached persona that I carefully pull together for nights like these. 

“Late night texts from an ex-boyfriend, talk about a mood killer.” He whispers in my ear, before placing an open mouthed kiss on my neck. 

I tilt my head to the side, I try to enjoy the feel of his curls brushing against my throat, but the texts are a firm reminder that Snow is not here. 

It takes about a second to fabricate an excuse to leave. He’s only disappointed for a moment, but, in a manner that’s also incredibly Snow-like, he remains friendly and upbeat. 

I manage to wait to look at my phone until I’ve finished my cab ride home. I resist the urge to open a bottle of wine, as I can’t trust myself not to respond if I’m not at least somewhat sober. 

After what’s felt like ages, I finally read what he sent me. 

12:04 a.m.  _ hllo its simon again _

_ 1 _ 2:05 a.m.  _ i didnt know that guy wsnt ur boyf srry for assuming _

12:05 a.m.  _ i just wnted to apologize to u but i wanted to do it in person _

12:05 a.m.  _ so if u ever feel like listening jst let me kno and ill meet u wherever _

His words feel like a punch to the gut. I was always ready to listen, I was always waiting for him to tell me what he was feeling, and now, two years later, he finally wants to talk to me. Crowley, how am I still in love with this numpty, even after he refused to let me care about him, and even now that he’s decided he wants to be open with me so long after it would have made a difference for us. 

I refuse to do as he asks though. I won’t let myself get hurt even more, I won’t let myself get involved in this mess again just so he can clear his conscience. He could have apologized a lot sooner, when the wounds were still fresh and when he might have still had feelings for me. Despite what Dev says about my pride preventing me from finding closure, or possibly happiness (as if Snow would ever want to try this again), I think there’s something to say for maintaining a bit of dignity. 

At least that’s what I'm trying to tell myself as I resist the urge to text Snow my address, something I haven’t even given to Bunce in the worry that she’d be a little too free in handing it out to others. Clearly giving her my number was risky enough. 

I set my mobile down and go into the kitchen to heat up my blood, then quickly drain my glass before finishing my nightly routine and crawling into bed. 

I think about Snow even more than usual in the days after those bloody texts. I finally cave and text Dev, unable to handle stewing in my thoughts alone any more. 

He comes over that night, and after slamming back a decent amount of whiskey, I feel tipsy enough to talk about my feelings. 

“He has no right, Dev!” I’m shouting into my glass. “I’m so fucking pissed at him for storming back into my life after two years, demanding that I listen to him. That’s all I wanted to do when we were together, you know? I gave him every chance to talk then, and instead he left me without a word.”

“You’re right to be pissed, mate.” I’m surprised enough that he agrees with me that I pull my nose out of my glass to raise an eyebrow at him. 

“I do support you, you know. I’m offended that you’d be so shocked that I’m on your side.”

I roll my eyes and return to nursing my drink.

“But you can be pissed at him and still listen, you know. You can be mad and still get something out of talking to him. Something that could help you understand him a little better and make you feel better about how things worked out between you.” 

I scoff. “It still won’t change anything.”

“Maybe it could! I think you won’t know until you actually have this conversation with him.” 

“I know that it won’t, Dev. Nothing is going to change the fact that I still love him, despite everything he’s put me through, and unless part of his supposed apology is suggesting that he wants to try again with me, I don’t want to hear it.” I’m crying now, feeling incredibly hopeless. The fucking whiskey has obliterated my filter. 

“Hey, Baz, it’s alright.” Dev has moved towards me and is going in for a hug. I punch his shoulder and he settles for patting my hand. “That’s fucking tough mate, and honestly, after what you said about Niall, I do understand a bit more. I like to think that I’d fight for him no matter what, but if I really thought he was done with me then I’d never get over him either. I wish there was something that could help.”

I’m fighting to compose myself. “A good shag hasn’t fixed anything, but it certainly hasn’t hurt.” I try to joke a bit to lighten things up, and Dev snorts at that.

“Yea, yea. I know I haven’t always been supportive of your methods or whatever, but honestly if it helps you forget this shit for a few minutes then it's probably not the worst thing in the world.”

“Thanks for your support Dev, it means the world.” I reply dryly. 

“In the meantime, you are allowed to shag as many guys as you want, and be as pissed at Snow as you want, alright? At least you’ve got his number if you ever feel like yelling at him a bit.” 

I decide to take his advice, and the next day I resume my habit of club hopping in search of lookalikes.My anger at Snow has helped assuage some of the guilt I have for using these men, although I am self-aware enough to realize that my anger is misplaced. 

I ignore Snow’s texts in an attempt to redirect my anger to the source, and as the days pass, it almost feels like things have returned to normal. 

  
  


**SIMON**

It's been another month since my latest round of texts to Baz, and he still hasn’t replied. I’ve given up on him ever responding, but I still haven’t given up on getting to apologize. I can still run into him, I can still take an opportunity presented to me by chance. And just because I’ve decided to help chance out by haunting clubs nearly every night does not mean that I’m breaking my rule.

It feels a bit like fifth year at Watford to be honest, except I have even less of an idea of where the fuck he is. I know there’s dozens of clubs in this part of London alone, but if he went to the one by our flat then he can’t be too far away, right? He wouldn’t be travelling hours across the city just to find a bloke to hook up with, it's not like he’d have any trouble finding one considering how ridiculously fit he is. 

I’m currently making my regular rounds through all of the clubs within walking distance of our flat. Penny and Shepard have joined me on a few trips, although they normally leave after the first club we stop at because they’re not really all that determined to track Baz down. 

This weekend they’re both out at Penny’s parent’s for Pacey’s birthday. Penny suggested that I take a break from what she called my “habitual stalking” to come along, but I refused. I can’t miss my chance. 

I’ve wandered into another club, and decide to grab a drink and settle in for a bit just in case I’m too early and he shows up later. 

A man slides in beside me and begins making small talk. I don’t want to be rude so I chat back, all the while scanning the room for a flash of long dark hair or startlingly pale skin. 

I spot that flash right as the bloke places his hand on my arm and asks if I want to get out of here.

“Ya, sorry mate, I’m leaving actually.”

He steps back, confused, and I take my chance to hop around him and move closer to where I saw the man disappearing into the crowd. He’s paused, and as I get a few steps closer I can tell it’s him.

“Baz!” I shout, not caring about anyone else around me. “Baz, wait!”

He looks around, only a vampire could actually hear me over this bloody music, and his eyes meet mine. He shakes his head and frowns, then makes a break for the door. I’m after him in a second. He’s out the door, me right behind him, and even though he’s all but sprinting down the street, I refuse to let him get away. 

“Baz, stop!” I yell after him, starting to feel desperate, and a bit pissed that he would ignore me while I’m shouting after him like this, that he could ignore me face to face after ignoring me over text for weeks. Already, I’m failing to remain confident like Penny suggested.

“Christ, Baz, would you just fucking wait!” He must hear that desperation and anger in my voice, and finally he pauses, still refusing to turn around though. 

“Why the fuck would I do that, Snow?” 

“Because I fucking asked you to, you prick! You can’t avoid me forever! I want to talk to you! Just give me five minutes!” I’m still pissed, but I’ll beg if I have to. 

Baz whirls around as he begins to speak “Oh so now you want to fucking talk? What about two years ago, why didn’t you want to talk then?” 

“I didn’t have the words then! I didn’t have anything then!”

“You had me.” Baz is snarling now. “You had me and then you fucking dumped me without warning and without reason!” 

“That’s what I want to talk to you about! I want to apologize and I don’t give a shit if you forgive me but you deserve an apology! I didn’t want to bother you out of nowhere, but I decided that if I ever ran into you around London that I would try to explain myself a bit.” 

“Why the fuck did you text me then?”

“Well I did see you but you were um, well, you were busy and Penny said I shouldn’t bug you right then and so then she said that it would be better to text you so you could reply on your time without pressure or something but then you never replied and I didn’t bloody know what to do! But then I saw you tonight and I just wanted to talk for a minute!” I know I’m blustering now but I’m trying to keep him from walking away again. “I really just want to tell you how sorry I am for the way I treated you and everything, but I promise that all I ever wanted is for you to be happy!” 

Baz spits out, “It’s not fair for you to say that when you…”

I cut him off. “I know! I’m the fucking arse who made you unhappy in the first place! I was so desperately in love with you but I thought that you would be better off without me! I just wanted you to be happy and I knew I wasn’t making you happy anymore, if I ever did.” I didn’t mean to tell him that I love him, but now that I have I can’t help but feel a bit relieved. It’s all out there now, for better or for worse.

Baz looks like he’s fighting to keep his composure, but tears are pooling in the corner of his eyes. “I told you that I could never be happy any where without you and I fucking meant it! I wasn’t unhappy until you broke up with me! Crowley, Snow! I’m so desperate for you that I’ve tried to find pieces of you in just about every man in this fucking city, and I never felt even a fraction of the way I did when I was with you! Even when you were comatose on the fucking couch I was still so much happier than I’ve been since you left me!” 

I’m crying now, I feel so fucking awful for making him hurt so much. And now that I’ve apologized, now that I’ve confessed that I love him, I don’t know what else to say. All I’ve got left is to beg, although I don’t know for what. “I’m sorry Baz, please. Please.” I’m choking on my words as the tears spill down my cheeks. 

**BAZ**

“Fucking what? What could you possibly want from me after this?” I had heard the word love and I had lost any ounce of neutrality I was trying to maintain. The past tense is killing me. He had loved me, and now what? Could I have fixed this if I’d swallowed my pride sooner, if I’d just talked to him back then, when he still really cared about me?

“It doesn’t matter, Baz. I just owed you a real apology and I know you don’t feel the same way I do, which is okay. I just had to tell you, and now that I have I promise you’ll never have to see me again.” He’s buried his face in his hands, but I can still tell from the way his body is moving that he’s crying. 

“And what exactly did you tell me, Snow?” He had to tell me how he felt? He didn’t tell me anything except that he was fucking sorry. As if that matters at this point. 

“That I love you, Baz! I love you so much that it hurts and it drives me crazy because I know that even now that I’ve sorted my shit out I still could never deserve you because you are so fucking perfect, but I want the chance to try even though I know its too late. And I am so sorry that when I did have the chance to fight for you, to work to be someone who deserved you, I didn’t.” 

I don’t even process anything after he says he loves me. He loves me now, still, after all this time. Before I can stop myself, I launch myself at him. He seems alarmed for a second, and takes a step back, but I grab him by his shirt before he can make it any farther away from me.

“I can’t believe that you got to say it first, after everything.” I snarl, and then, finally, finally, I kiss him. I can’t believe that I have survived this long without this feeling, without his warm lips pliant underneath mine, and when he comes to life under my touch, I die. Crowley, I had almost given up on meeting my end at the hands of Simon Snow, but it seems as though my old daydreams might still come true. I’m clinging to him, desperately trying to take in as much of Snow as I can. I move my hands to his hair, feeling his curls slip through my fingers. His hands are tugging at my hair and I’m gasping into his mouth, reaching down to his hips to pull him closer. It hasn’t even occurred to me that I might be crossing his boundaries. I hadn’t kissed him this deeply or held him this close during most of our relationship because he wasn’t comfortable with it, and the worry of pushing him makes me pull back. He follows me, and I almost smile seeing him like that, but I apologize instead.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to presume that you wanted that, I don’t want to push you.”

“Baz, I’m not breakable. Um, not anymore at least.” he smiles at me, and I melt. His eyes are shining and I can’t remember if I’ve ever seen him look so alive. He pulls me in again but as I go to meet his lips with my own, he pauses just a breath away from me. I open my eyes, and see that he looks worried, his teeth pulling at his chapped bottom lip.

“Do you really want this, Baz? I’d understand if you didn’t. I know I’ve… Well I’ve put you through a lot. But I want the chance to get it right with you, if you want that too.”

I sigh, unable to believe that he still can’t see that I’d do anything for him. “Who am I to deny Simon Snow something he wants?” He smiles again, but still looks a little unsure. “Crowley, Snow. I’ve loved you since before I even knew what that meant, and if you want this, I do too. Alright?” This time I get a brilliant smile, and he crashes into me, this kiss full of heat and clashing teeth. My hands immediately go back to his hips and he’s grabbing at my shirt, untucking it from my slacks. His hand ghosts across my stomach before crawling up my back, clutching at my shoulder blades. He pulls back again after a minute, and I nearly pout until he says, “Come back to mine, yea?” I nod, launching myself back at him. He laughs against my mouth, before taking a breath for air.

“I’ve got to flag us a cab, love.” I nearly gasp at that coming from him so casually. He takes my hand and tugs me into the cab behind him as I marvel at how much he’s changed from the depressed man who couldn’t look me in the eye, let alone allow me to hold him. Once we’re in, and he's given the cabbie his address, I cuddle up beside him, laying my head on his shoulder and placing my hand on his thigh, all while marvelling at the turn my night has taken. 

**SIMON**

I try to stay confident as we pull up in front of my building. I pay for the ride and then pull Baz out of the cab, absolutely refusing to let go of him after being deprived of his touch for so long (although that is completely my fault). I push that thought away, instead focusing on the amazing, fit man beside me. I practically drag him up the two flights of stairs that lead to the door of my flat, and I fumble with the keys as his hand that isn’t holding mine moves to the small of my back. His touch is killing any anxiety or doubt that is attempting to creep in, and the second we are in my flat and the door is shut, I’m on him, already missing the feel of his lips under mine. His hand had been driving me crazy in the cab. 

I unbutton his jacket while slipping my tongue into his mouth, moaning as he presses in to me so I can push his jacket off his arms. He breaks the kiss to pull off his shoes, then crouches to unlace mine. The sight of him on the ground is enough to make me blush as my mind flits across another reason he’d have to be on his knees in front of me, and as he looks up with his eyebrow raised, I can barely choke back another moan. He’s back up in a flash, his hand rucking up my shirt and sliding underneath, his cold hands feeling heavenly against my hot skin. 

I capture his mouth again, and blindly walk him backwards down the short hallway and into my bedroom. I close the door behind us with my foot, and all but throw him down onto the bed. Before I can reach for him, Baz is pulling off his shirt, then tugging at mine. He tears it off and tosses it across the room, and I can finally put my hands back on him. I’m just feeling across the plains of his chest and marveling at how beautiful he is before he grabs me by the shoulders and wrenches me down so I’m hovering over him.

I move my hands to his back and growl, pulling his chest flush with mine before diving back into his mouth. His bare skin on mine is driving me insane, made worse by the feel of him digging into my hip. For a moment, I’m thrown back in time to when we had last gotten to this point and how I completely froze up because I felt too exposed. I had wanted it so badly until I didn’t anymore, and then I could never find the words to tell Baz how I felt. I never told him that I did want him but just needed space, and I’ve realized since then (or at least hoped) that that’s all he was trying to do when he backed off from me. 

It’s only a second, but Baz notices that I’m distracted, and pulls back. He shifts a little and I suck in a breath as I feel him brush against me again. His eyes go wide and he starts to apologize. “I’m sorry, we can stop. We’ll take this as slow as you want to.” He looks scared, and I feel terrible for making him so worried about breaking me, about taking something from me that I’m not willing to give. As if there isn’t anything in the world I wouldn’t give Baz, especially now that I am as close to healed and whole as I’ve really ever been. 

“Baz, I have wanted you for longer than even I’ve known. I want to do this, okay?” He nods, still looking a little unsure. I want to show him I mean it, so as I lean in to kiss him again, I move my hand down to the front of his slacks, feeling him through his layers of clothing. This is absolutely intoxicating, and I am moaning into his mouth as he gasps at the contact. He seems to finally realize that I’m serious, and his hands move to the button of my jeans, undoing it quickly before I push his hands away so I can pull at his slacks too. As his pants start to creep down, I decide to just go for it and take everything off. I sit back on my heels as I yank his socks off, and he is left there, completely naked and breathing hard while I take him in. Now that I’ve seen him like this, I can say that I love every inch of him. I growl and dive back in. 

**BAZ**

I have definitely died. This is some version of hell reserved specially for vampires where they are given anything they ever could have dreamed of and then something will happen and it will all be gone. For now, Snow’s mouth is wrapped around me as his hands dig into my hips. He groans around me as I move my hands to his hair, feeling him bobbing up and down. It feels like he might not be particularly experienced, but he is certainly enthusiastic. I again am blown away by how different he is from the boy that dumped me on the side of the road two years ago, and it gives me hope that we could really pull this off. The hand on my hip begins roaming upwards, and as he takes a nipple in between his fingers, I let out an embarrassing moan. Apparently Snow likes it, as he growls and the vibrations of the noise combined with everything else he’s doing to me and the fact that it is Simon Snow’s mouth and hands on me, tip me nearly over the edge. 

“Simon, I’m so, I’m about to-” I can’t even form a sentence, but he seems to take my meaning. Instead of backing off as I would expect, he doubles down and in seconds, is swallowing every drop as I finish. I’m reeling from the amazing feeling of coming in Simon Snow’s mouth, and he is still placing wet kisses all over my thighs and hips. He slowly traces his way up my chest and back to my mouth. The taste of me in Snow’s mouth makes me moan again, and he responds by pulling me up on top of him, so I’m sitting in his lap. We kiss languidly, our tongues intertwining as I savour the reality of my life at this moment. I reach down to the front of Snow’s jeans which I never actually got around to taking off, but he grabs my hand.

“Wait, Baz, just um, are you sure you want this? You don’t have to.” He looks shy, and a little anxious. 

As if I’m ever going to miss an opportunity to touch Snow, as if I’d pass on doing something that I’ve dreamed about for this long.

“I want to, Simon. I want everything with you.” I whisper, before kissing him on the forehead. “Do you want this?”

**SIMON**

I sigh in relief, and feel near tears hearing him say that after everything we’ve been through, everything I put him through. 

“Of course.” I whisper back. I’m over taken with the wanting and the fact that Baz is really here, really touching me, and that he seems to want this as much as I do. “I love you, Baz. So much.” I kiss his neck, working back up to his ear where I whisper, “I missed you so fucking badly.” He whimpers, and I feel like now might not be the time but I also feel like I need him to know how important he is to me. I pull back and make sure I’m looking him in the eyes. “I’m never going without you again, yea? Not without putting up a fight.” He nods, and his stormy grey eyes are shining as I pull him to me, hugging him fiercely. He buries his head into my neck and sniffles. After a few moments, he pulls back. 

He looks a little more composed as he says, “Quit being so soft, Snow,” but I can tell he’s only teasing by the twitch of his lips. I smile, and grab him by the back of his neck, bringing him in for a gentle kiss. He pushes his face into mine, slipping his tongue into my mouth, and as he brings his hands up to my hair I’m moaning against his lips. Baz grinds down into me and I’m reminded of what was happening a few minutes ago. I grab his arse, pulling him as close to me as is physically possible. 

“Shall I continue, Snow?” He whispers into my mouth, and I’m breathless at the suggestion. 

“Please, darling.” I push up into him, and he groans. In a moment, I’m on my back, and he’s pulling off my jeans, and palming me through my pants.

“I can take these off?” he asks, still being ever so thoughtful and patient.

I nod frantically and he all but rips them off. He’s in between my legs in an instant, taking me into his mouth. I’m groaning as he comes up for air, raising an eyebrow at me. He is so unbelievably fit, and I cup his face in my hands, tracing his cheekbones with my thumbs. He gives me a hint of a smile before reaching between my legs. I gasp, and move my hand to cover my mouth. 

“I want to hear you, Simon,” his voice a throaty growl. I move my hand immediately and let out the string of noises I’d been trying to cover up.

“That’s better, love.” he smiles, and then moves his mouth to replace his hand. He’s absolutely amazing at this, and I’m finishing fast enough that I’d be embarrassed if Baz wasn’t so encouraging. He places soft kisses along my thighs and then finds a spot on my hip that he focuses on, gently biting and kissing. 

“I’ve wanted to kiss that mole since I was fifteen,” He whispers into my skin, and I can’t stop myself from pulling his mouth up to mine. After a bit more snogging, he flops onto his side and snuggles in, throwing an arm and a leg over me as he nuzzles into my neck. This is the happiest I think I’ve ever been. Baz is in my arms and I’m running my fingers up and down his back as I soak in the feeling of peace that I have tried so hard to find. I’m feeling very close to sleep, but I jolt as I remember something I forgot to do.

**BAZ**

I’m snuggling into Snow, basking in the feel of his fingers ghosting along my back and wondering if it’s fair to assume that I can sleep here. I think about just closing my eyes and letting it happen when Snow lurches a little, and I’m immediately set on edge. 

“Baz?” he asks, sounding uncomfortable. 

“Snow.” I reply, the fear of what he’s about to say adding a harshness to my voice that I regret. 

“Um. Can I ask you something?”

That never leads anywhere good. 

“I know I said that I love you and stuff but, uh-”

Crowley, I don’t want to hear it-

“I kind of skipped this and just assumed, but can I be your terrible boyfriend again, like officially?” 

I’m completely thrown for a moment as that is so in the opposite direction of where my head was going, and I think he’s worried about my answer because he starts to ramble. 

“I mean, not terrible like last time, like terrible as in I’ll forget to do the shopping, or I’ll want to leave the window open even though you like it closed, or shit like that, yea?”

I’m still reeling, so I return to my default, answering snidely, “You were a passable shag so I suppose I could stick around for a bit if you really want me to Snow.” 

“Only passable?” He seems genuinely insecure, and I soften a little, placing a kiss on the mole on his neck. Now that I’ve recovered from my own insecurity, I realize he’ll probably need a little more from me after asking to be officially together again. 

“Of course I’d like to be boyfriends, Simon. And it was probably better than passable, though we’d have to go again to know for sure, I think.”

He beams at me, and draws me into a searing kiss, teasing me with his tongue before pulling back and touching my forehead with his own.

“I never really gave up on you, you know.” he whispers, his breath tickling my nose.

To actually hear him say that knocks me flat. “I always hoped that I would find you again, but I didn’t want to reach out in case I ruined your happiness or something. I made myself miserable because I thought it would be better for you in the end, but I should have let you decide. I should have given you the facts, I should have told you that I was broken and useless and in love with you, and given you a choice. I’m sorry that I took that away from you.”

“I’m sorry about that too,” I say, smoothing his hair back from his forehead. “Because I would have chosen to stay with you. I will always choose you, Simon.”

His eyes shine, and tears begin to slip down his cheeks. “I love you so much, Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch.”

I make a face, and he giggles through his tears. I bend down to nip his ear before whispering, “I love you too, you beautiful disaster.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!! Again, I'd love writing tips, so hit me up in the comments or @waywardlesbian on Tumblr if you have any suggestions!


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